


cookie catastrophe

by lemon_lullabies



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, M/M, Theyre both dumb, gon has several gay panics, imagine being gay, killugon doesnt have to imagine, silly teenaged boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_lullabies/pseuds/lemon_lullabies
Summary: “Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I’ve made Christmas cookies with Aunt Mito for years!”Killua was not convinced, but he played along anyway. It was just Christmas cookies; how much can itreallygo wrong?The answer is: a lot."Or: The boys make Christmas cookies, Killua is competitive, and Gon is gay.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 30
Kudos: 144





	cookie catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlkalineChatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlkalineChatter/gifts).



> sorry for my absence for a few weeks.... motivation to do anything has been low, and it took me several days to hype myself up to actually write this. i really wanted to write some christmas fluff tho!! the idea for christmas cookie shenanigans goes to WindyQ, and a special shoutout to kxrapikaz for helping me out with that one line of dialogue (you know what it is shawtybae <3)
> 
> gifted to my honorary older sister for all her kindness and christmas fic hype
> 
> that's all! please enjoy :)

Gon loves this cabinet, he thinks. The cabinet is warm. The cabinet is safe. Alright, sure, it’s a little cramped. There’s no leg room, and he has to curl into a tight ball to fit among the various pots and pans that usually claim this space as their own. His neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle to accommodate the low ‘ceiling,’ and his feet are starting to lose circulation wedged underneath a particularly space-consuming pot. Despite all that, Gon is still grateful for the cabinet. In here, he can hide from his problems.

If that seems out of character, that’s because it is. Gon is never one to run from challenges. He prefers to face obstacles head on, kick them in the jaw, and be on his merry way. But this problem is different from anything he’s faced before. It’s more delicate, more important. Something that he can’t mess up, or he’ll never forgive himself. (It’s about Killua. If you didn’t guess this yet, you really need to reevaluate how well you know Gon.)

Now you may be asking yourself: why, exactly, is Gon currently cowering in a cabinet rather than talking to Killua like a civilized person? It’s a long story, but it starts a little like this…

It was snowing. Heavily. So heavily that Killua and Gon were essentially stuck inside their tiny apartment. Attempting to brave the heavy wind and relentless thick flakes would be futile and only result in the pair becoming a shivering, dripping mess. Leaving was out of the question. Which sucked immensely. Alluka and Nanika had planned to spend the weekend dogsitting for Knuckle, but the snow meant that they had to spend a few more days away from the boys. In reality, this isn’t an issue. The girls are 14 now, and they can take care of themselves just fine. Gon reminded Killua of this fact at least four times, and yet he was still tense and disgruntled. When you’re dealing with Killua, that is never a good combination.

Gon had to do _something_ to distract him. Come on, brain, think! What are some fun and distracting Christmas traditions you can do without having to leave the house? Think think _think…_

And then it struck him. Christmas cookies. It was the perfect idea. Gon may be hopeless in the kitchen with most things, but he’s had years of practice baking cookies with Aunt Mito. He knows the recipe by heart.

But how to get Killua to go along with the plan… The answer was simple, really. Chocolate. Okay, so maybe chocolate chip cookies weren’t the traditional sugar cookies Gon was accustomed to, but it shouldn’t be that different, right? Right. So, while Killua laid draped across their dilapidated couch sulking, Gon went on a rampage through the kitchen cabinets in search of the elusive chocolate chips. His victorious screech when he finally located them elicited a groan from a very unhappy Killua, who moments later trudged into the kitchen glumly, dragging his socked feet across the cold tile.

“What the hell are you doing in here, idiot?” he rasped, eyebrows raised.

Gon enlisted the help of his fluffy socks to skate across the tile, looping an arm around Killua’s shoulders and brandishing the bag of chocolate chips with his other hand. “Cookie time!!” he singsonged, practically vibrating with energy. (Gon would call it Christmas spirit. Killua would call it annoying.)

“We are NOT making Christmas cookies. You’d just make a mess.”

“We ARE making Christmas cookies, and the mess is half of the fun!” Gon retorted, nodding his head in agreement with himself.

And who was Killua to resist? He faked reluctance, digging his heels halfheartedly into the floor as Gon forcefully dragged him across the room. The counter was already decked out with a plethora of bowls and wooden spoons. Bags of flour and sugar threatened to topple onto the floor. Luckily, the carton of eggs was far from the edge. Gon had at least a _little_ common sense.

“Alright Mr. Christmas cookies, how are we doing this?” Killua deadpanned, leveling said Mr. Christmas cookies with a sulky glare.

“Killua will be the mixer,” Gon replied, unceremoniously dropping a large bowl into Killua’s unsuspecting arms and wielding a wooden spoon, which he then bestowed upon Killua as if knighting him. “And _I_ will be the measurer!” He hefted the bag of flour off the counter and cradled it in his arms. “Well… we don’t actually have measuring cups, so we’re just going to have to estimate.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Killua set the bowl back on the counter and placed his freed hand on his hip, using his other hand to point at Gon with the spoon.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I’ve made Christmas cookies with Aunt Mito for years!”

Killua was not convinced, but he played along anyway. It was just Christmas cookies; how much can it _really_ go wrong?

The answer is: a lot.

They started off very seriously. Gon estimated two cups of flour, and Killua was surprised by how competent he seemed. It actually looked about the right amount. After the successful addition of sugar and baking powder with a shocking lack of spills, Killua shouldered Gon out of the way.

“Move, _I’m_ gonna add the rest of the ingredients.”

“But Killua—”

“Shush, I bet I can make better cookies than you, anyway.”

Gon’s eyes glinted mischievously in the artificial light. “Oh? Are you willing to bet on that?”

Killua narrowed his eyes. “Hell yeah, I am!”

Gon bounced on his feet excitedly. “Then Killua finishes _that_ batch of cookies, and I’ll make another batch, and whoever’s tastes worse has to… has to… um…”

“Has to do the laundry for the whole month!” Killua supplied triumphantly. “And I’m not gonna lose, so get ready to wash my stinky socks!!!” He lifted and wiggled one of his feet in advertisement of what Gon had in store.

Gon wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Yeah, well, my cookies are going to be better, so _you’ll_ have to wash _my_ stinky socks!!” He kicked Killua in the shin with one socked foot. This normally would have escalated into a playful brawl, but both boys had their minds set on a different goal. It was cookie time.

As previously stated, Gon knew this recipe like the back of his hand. He measured and mixed with vigor, but his attention was elsewhere.

Killua is so goddamn pretty. Gon swears it on his life: he’s never seen someone as pretty as Killua. In that moment, Killlua’s eyes were focused with a deadly seriousness. If he had looked up and stared at Gon with that same intensity, Gon thinks he may have passed out on the spot. He was too pretty (too attractive, his mind unhelpfully added) for his own good, and it ate Gon from the inside out. Killua bit his lip as he worked, chewing on it absentmindedly while he carefully added some salt to the mix. He broke the eggs with a grace only Killua could exude, and those thin fingers that Gon would give anything to hold tossed the expended eggshells in the direction of the sink.

Killua with a whisk was a force to be reckoned with. The speed and ferocity with which he beat the poor dough was mesmerizing (and somehow, for some reason only logical in Gon’s brain, a little bit of a turn on. Give him a break. He’s 17, hormonal, and faced with the most beautiful and formidable person he has ever met). Killua’s unruly hair flounced into his eyes as he continued his assault on the dough, and Gon resisted the urge to tuck the disobedient curl behind his ear.

When Killua finally set the bowl to the side with a smug announcement of “done,” Gon broke out of his trance and quickly finished mixing his own dough as Killua watched in mirth, teasing him for his slowness.

With the creation of the dough complete, it was time to shape the cookies themselves. To Gon’s immense disappointment, they had no fun-shaped cookie cutters. The traditional circular cookies would have to do. What a let-down. He would have loved to make cookies in the shape of angels just to give them to Killua. An angel for an angel.

Killua eyed him with apprehension as he crawled into cabinet after cabinet in search of a rolling pin. They didn’t have one. Honestly, what was he thinking? If they didn’t have measuring cups, why would they have rolling pins? Whatever. They would just have to use their hands.

Gon dumped the dough onto the counter, smiling sadistically as it slowly succumbed to gravity and left the bowl, landing with a satisfying splat. Killua followed suit, not one to be shown up.

Gon gleefully slammed his fist into the gloopy mess, flattening it out with a scary eagerness. He held back, of course. Otherwise the counter would have been obliterated, and Killua would have killed him on the spot. This was Gon’s favorite part of cookie baking. He loved the feeling of the dough between his hands, squeezing until it streamed out of his fingers like tiny worms. He flattened the dough mercilessly with the palm of his hand while Killua watched on with amusement and mild fear.

Killua joined in after a few moments, mashing his hands into his own heap of dough.

“So, my laundry for a month, huh? I hope you’re ready ‘cause some of my socks are fucking _ranci_ —FUCK!” He let loose a string of expletives as he desperately tried to patch up a hole ripped into the center; apparently he had stretched the dough a little too thin. Gon laughed at his misery, and Killua retaliated with a swift kick to the shin. “Shut up,” he hissed, “these are going to be the best cookies you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mhm, tell that to my socks you’ll be washing for a month.”

“You’re a piece of shit. You know that, right?”

“You never fail to remind me.”

Killua, genius as ever, used an upside-down cup to cut circles into his dough. Gon lavished him with praise – to which Killua flushed and punched him in the shoulder painfully – and followed suit. Within minutes, they slid two trays into the oven and collapsed on the couch.

“Movie?”

“Movie.”

Killua scrolled aimlessly through the channels, eventually settling on some bullshit made for TV Christmas movie. He complained the entire way through, but his eyes never strayed from the movie, and Gon swears he saw Killua tear up as the protagonists finally had their perfect Christmas wedding. Gon, instead of watching the movie, had been staring at Killua for the entirety of the 117-minute film. Movies tended to bore him; he could barely ever get through the first ten minutes. Killua, on the other hand, could never bore him. Staring at Killua may, in fact, be his favorite pastime. At least, it was the one he spent the most time on recently.

Has Gon mentioned that Killua is breathtaking yet? He’s filled out over the years, lithe and elegant. He’s got the build of a dancer, and the flexibility of one, too. Oh, God, he’s so _flexible_. It’s mesmerizing and tantalizing and everything Gon can’t have. Gon wants to take Killua into his arms and push back those curls from his forehead, leaving a kiss in their wake. He wants to lace his fingers through those beautiful long ones and rest their joined hands on his heart so Killua can feel how fast his heart races when Killua even just smiles in his direction. He wants to fall asleep on Killua’s shoulder and wake to find him running his hands through Gon’s unruly spikes. He wants and wants and _wants_ but he can never have it. And it breaks his heart, but he promised himself that he would never be so selfish again, and he never breaks a promise.

Through some stroke of luck, the timer for the cookies goes off only moments after the movie ends, so Gon didnt’t have to stutter through some excuse as to why he was staring at Killua for well over an hour. Immediately, Killua leapt to his feet. Did he really just active Godspeed just to rush to the kitchen and pull the cookies out of the oven? Yes. Yes he did.

“Are you ready to find out how much better my cookies are than yours?” he sneers with a menacing smirk. 

“Mm, but we have to try the other person’s cookies first!”

“Deal.”

Waiting for the cookies to cool so that they don’t burn their tastebuds in a delicious inferno? Never heard of her. The boys locked eyes, smiled, and each tossed a cookie into their awaiting mouths.

The only thing Gon could taste was salt. Way too much salt. He choked back a gag and swallowed the offending treat.

Killua was still chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed, smiling at Gon and murmuring, “it’s better than I thought.”

And there goes Gon’s heart, picking up the pace with that tiny smile. Oh God, he can’t call Killua’s cookies awful after Killua praised his!

“Yours were good, too, Killua!” A little white lie couldn’t hurt, right?

“Well, it’s time to figure out who won this competition,” Killua gloats, picking up one of his own cookies and raising it to his mouth—

“Killua! No!”

But it’s too late. Killua took a bite, and his face immediately contorted into an expression of disgust.

“What the fuck, Gon? These taste like shit!”

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, how can he cover this?_

“Well Killua made them, and I love everything Killua makes!” To prove his point, he bit into another of the insidious cookies, eyes watering just slightly.

It seems as though his excuse worked, because Killua’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, a heavy blush tinting his whole face a flaming red.

“Just… shut up!” Killua stammered, shaking his head so his bangs fell into his eyes. “We’re trying this again, and this time, they’re going to be delicious.”

They pulled out the ingredients yet again, deciding to make a batch together this time. It went about as well as you would expect.

Meaning, they both crowded over the bowl, causing Gon to stumble and make a mess of the flour, which now covered the floor like a fresh dusting of snow. Gon, upon realizing the striking semblance to snow, flopped to the ground and began to make snow (flour?) angels.

“Oh my God, get up you idiot!”

Killua’s orders were promptly ignored. Killua had to resort to extreme measures: dragging Gon across the floor by his ancles until he gave in and stood up.

“Killuaaaaaa!!!” Gon grappled at the slippery floor, trying to escape Killua’s assault to no avail. He went limp in resignation. “Fine! Fine, I’ll get up.” He complied sulkily, staring at his assailant with an exaggerated pout. 

Standing up, he was covered head to toe in a thin layer of flour. A mischievous grin slowly spread across his face. Killua, rightfully, looked on with trepidation. Not even a second later, Gon had launched himself at Killua, wrapping him in a tight hug and covering Killua with his own coat of flour.

“Oh, it’s _on!_ ”

Killua escaped Gon’s grasp, knelt to gather a handful of flour, and mashed it into Gon’s hair. In retaliation, Gon tossed a handful into Killua’s face. Their joint laughter echoed off the kitchen walls.

Five minutes and half a bag of flour later, the boys – now absolutely saturated in flour – returned to their half-complete dough. The rest of the dough-making went by without a hitch. As Gon turned around after preheating the oven and preparing a tray, however, he found Killua discretely shoveling raw dough into his mouth.

“Killua! Stop! We’re not going to have any dough left for the actual cookies!”

“I was just making sure they weren’t too salty this time.”

“Mhm, sure. Now give me the bowl.”

Killua, affronted, hugged the bowl closer to his chest. “Mine,” he hissed.

“Fine, then. You can flatten the dough all by yourself.” That got Killua to release his death grip on the poor bowl. Together, they flattened, cut, and laid out the dough on the tray. Gon gently slid the tray into the oven, grinning at their success.

He turned to face Killua and, oh, that was a bad decision. Killua was still half covered in flour. His hair was disheveled, and he had streaks of dough across his cheek and on the tip of his nose. He was a mess. A beautiful, breathtaking mess. And Gon couldn’t help it. He surged forward, cupped Killua’s dough-covered cheeks in his hands, and landed a kiss right on his perfect lips.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

How was he supposed to recover from this? He just ruined everything. Everything he had built up with Killua over five years, the trust, the friendship. All wiped away with his stupid, reckless, irrational, impulsive actions. _Again._ He swore to himself that he would never hurt Killua again. And then he went and pulled this shit.

So he bolted, leaving Killua standing frozen in front of the oven. His braincells had evacuated the building as soon as his lips touched Killua’s, so he crawled into the nearest hiding place, which just so happened to be a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen counter.

And that’s how you could find Gon cowering in a cabinet, surrounded by pots and pans, coated in flour, and losing circulation in his feet. Yes, Gon thinks, this cabinet will make a nice place to spend the rest of his loathsome days. He can stay curled up in here until he withers away. Sounds like a plan.

Of course, nothing ever goes as planned for Gon. It’s not even 30 seconds later when a livid, red-faced Killua yanks open the door to the cabinet.

“Get out of there.”

“No.”

“I said, get out of there.”

“I said no.”

“Gon, do you want me to drag you out? Cuz we both know that I can.”

Gon sighs in defeat. It was true. He clambers out of the cabinet, averting his eyes from what he knew would be a disappointed expression on Killua’s face. As soon as he emerges, Killua grabs his wrist, drags him to the couch, and forces him to sit.

“What the hell was that?”

Gon still can’t will himself to look up and watch his world crumble around him. What can he say to fix this? What is there to say? ‘I’m sorry I kissed you, I’ve just been desperately in love with you for as long as I can remember and I only just realized it a year ago but every time I look at you it feels like I could take on the world’? Yeah, that’ll go over well.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can muster.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” Killua retorts, and that’s what finally gets Gon to look up.

Killua’s blushing like mad. If Gon were anyone else, he might be concerned that Killua was about to pass out. But he wasn’t, and he was staring at Gon with a strange look on his face, an expression somewhere between apprehensive and hopeful, terrified and excited.

“I’m in love with you,” he says without thinking, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He can breathe again, now that he’s not lugging this secret around with him every second of every day. 

“If this is a joke, it’s not funny. It’s sick.”

Gon is taken aback. “I would never joke about something like this. I mean it, Killua.”

And Killua’s face slowly melts into something Gon can’t quite decipher. So, so slowly, like dripping molasses, a smile stretches across his mouth.

“Kiss me.”

Gon’s brain short circuits. “What?”

“Kiss me!”

So he does. He reaches over, buries his hands in those curls that have haunted his dreams, and kisses Killua like his life depends on it. Because, in a way, it does. He lets himself want. He wants and wants and _wants_ and he can finally have it and it’s everything. The world keeps spinning. The snow keeps falling. But all that matters is Killua’s lips on his, Killua’s arms around his neck, Killua’s hair tickling his forehead, Killua, Killua, Killua. Killua who’s crawling into his lap, Killua whose hands are moving along his collarbones and trailing down his sides, Killua who’s finally pulling away, panting, to lean his forehead against Gon’s, flushed the loveliest shade of pink in the world.

There’s flour in their hair, dough on their cheeks, and the taste of each other on their lips. It’s the best Christmas gift Gon could ask for.

“How could you ever think I didn’t love you back,” Killua whispers, and he’s so close that his lips almost brush against Gon’s with his words. Gon shivers.

“I don’t know, but it seems really stupid in hindsight.”

Their moment of bliss is broken by an unpleasant scent filling the air. It smelled like something was burning.

“Oh fuck, the cookies!”

They gave up on making Christmas cookies that year.

**Author's Note:**

> qwistmas send tweet
> 
> let me know your thoughts below! or don't lol you do you, comments just make me smile (think of it as a Christmas gift to me hehehe)


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